My Heart Bleeds For You
by PixieKiz
Summary: Stuck in 1976 with no time turner, no hope of ever recovering from the death of her parents and ... no clothes! Can hermione let go of her past-Future! and really create a new future?-Past! Angst, AU/AR, H/C, M/F, RapeFic, Rom, Tort
1. Chapter 1

**New Fic, New Story. Review if you like it. Always makes writers keep going. No rush though. Enjoy!**

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Things were wonderful. Times were joyous. Everyone celebrated … night after night of constant celebrations at numerous houses. Hosted by countless members of the wizarding community; whether they had been on the dark side or not. It sounded cliché to some, but the golden trio were going stronger than ever. They went out together, they dined together and eventually they got together. Harry with Rons sister Ginny and Hermione with Ron. They were blissfully happy. Smiling to their hearts content. Enjoying their freedom. Every time the cameras turned to them they always happily shared their time with the masses. Telling them that they were not ashamed to be normal people, being shown shopping for equipment and clothing. Eating out, or simply ordering from a take away. Hermione especially was not shy about showing of her muggle fashions or devices that she refused to let go of in her life. At sixteen the Golden Trio had conquered the darkest wizard of their time, and of their parents time. Never to see or hear from him again.

Until the crowds vanished … the cameras stopped flashing and the autograph hounds stopped pestering. Then the golden trio were nothing more than a bickering group of people who over the years had been thrust together for the greater good. It came as no shock when Ron left the ground, left Hermione. Some blonde girl wanting him to sign somewhere specific had ended up in his bed … his signature _all_ over her. A look if disappointment and dissatisfaction.

But Harry? Hermione always believed that the troubled boy would always stay with her, even as the platonic sibling friendship grew the muggle born had stupidly believed that for some reason or other the two of them would stand by each other. Merlin knew she had seen him through some of his darkest hours.  
Yet with the reformation of the Ministry of Magic and Hogwarts unfit for students to attend Hermione had found herself alone. Alone in her parents home, their memories returned at the end of the war. Left to sit in the gloom as she recounted all those around her that she had lost the war. The people that had become close, then left due to Voldemort's power, or lack thereof it had seemed.

For being anticlimactic when Harry simply shot the killing curse at Voldemort … so many more around them had died. Almost all of them wiped out. Leaving the trio to stand with Molly and Arthur Weasley, George minus one ear and Ginny. They were all that remained. Only when Molly killed Bellatrix did the Death Eaters retreat. Their skin burning as their master fell before their eyes at the hand of a child half their age. At the hands of someone who had evaded the killing curse for sixteen years. Though the battle was bloody and the bodies of their friends lay strewn around them the group huddled together. The Weasleys and Harry taking off to the rebuilt Burrow and Hermione off to restore the memories of her parents. Having relocated them to Australia with modified memories before the final battle, save them being used against her in the fight. Something like that she knew she would never have recovered from. However Harry had managed to cope she would never know. To Hermione, her parents meant the world to her. They were the very essence of her existence and without them there would be nothing worth living for.

So there she sat. All day. Every day. On the edge of her single white cotton sheet bed. Staring into the blankness that was the mirror on her wall. Her reflection the only source of true colour in her room besides the numerous books she so studiously cherished. After the war even they were ignored.

In essence, she was numbing herself from any and all emotion. Systematically shutting her brain down day by day in the hopes that one time she would be able to fall into a comforting sleep. And never wake up.

It was a cowards way to think of things. The war was over, everyone that survived was having the time of their lives. Ron especially. She would not begrudge him his enjoyment of women. God knows he never found it when he was with her. Apparently she was far too prudish, refusing to even let him do the simplest of things to her. All the while she cowered, terrified after reliving memories of a forgotten time in her childhood. Of when her 'uncle' had babysat her. Had told her all the lurid things he would do to her if anyone found out about 'their little secret'. While Ron believed she was stuck up and frigid … Hermione lay there, letting him get on with things while she replayed every image in her head of the forgotten man who babysat her one summer two years ago when she was fourteen.  
Her parents never knew of course. Why should she tell them such a dreadful thing. She would simply crush their spirits. Let them see that an action of their own had crushed their daughter who for as long as she knew she was a witch had to fight off evils to save the world with no help from any adult that could listen. Of course Hermione never divulged anything about the war. Or the subsequent events that lead to the final battle. She simply returned their memories and stated rather plainly. 'It's over. We won. Let's go home'. and was done with it.  
Not even her work on the veil that found very simply that to return someone from it one must send the essence of their soul into the veil in the form of a strong Patronus with the intent to return someone. Their hearts had to be in it however. The veil was more or less a giant dementor. Sucking the souls of people until they died. The living that passed through were held in a time freeze, a suspended animation where they knew no subsequent passing of time nor of any events that passed. So when Hermione, hard faced and broken returned her best friends godfather from the veil she made no qualms about her reasoning and simply flooed him to the Burrow and returned home.  
After a few weeks … the owls simply stopped.

"Hermione? Darling? Are you still sitting there?" Her mother called from the hallway, opening the door only slightly to take in what remained of her beautiful daughter. At sixteen she should have been enjoying her youth, celebrating a life she had that many others were not so lucky in losing. Yet she sulked in her room. Depressed. Almost lifeless. The dullness of her once vibrant eyes had frightened her parents. Almost at one point believing she was someone else. It didn't bother her however, as she simply stated that they could believe her or not, but that she simply was tired and wanted to go to bed.

That however, was four months ago. By this time the school year should have ended. Everyone would be filing out for summer. And Hermione should have been studying furiously for Seventh year and the goal of passing her N.E.W.T.S. Her school books. For once in their life. Sat covered in a thin layer of dust. The proof that Hermione Jean Granger, bookworm friend and one third of the Golden trio had given up forever. The government had left her with a healthy settlement as 'compensation' for their troubles during the war. Over thirty thousand Galleons each. In muggle money … it meant Hermione was a very wealthy sixteen year old.

"I'm fine mum." the girl murmured, her eyes never straying away from the blank expression on her face. Registering the movement as she spoke but not making a jot of difference to the way she sat still as a statue on her bed. As if possessed by a demon. This was not the girl everyone had grown to know of Hermione Granger. Brightest witch of her age. Perfect student and solution to the mystery of the veil.

"Well … dinner is on the table if you want some sweetie. You're father and I would like it if you could sit with us. But you take your time my love." She said softly, concern and affection lacing every syllable as she spoke. Her eyes once more taking in the now gaunt looking girl she was blessed with.  
However, that night was not at all going to be remedied by her sitting at the dining room table anymore.

Not long after six PM a loud crash was heard and the sound of screaming from downstairs alerted the war veteran sixteen year old as she grabbed her wand and raced downstairs, holding it in front of her as she came across a scene she prayed would never occur. Her mother and father thrown into a corner. Their bodied eviscerated and pooling with blood as their glazed eyes gazed up at their daughter. After that things became a blur. A noiseless, numbed blur.

She could remember it all vividly, and feel every ounce of pain. Yet if felt like she had risen above her body. She acknowledged the pain. Loved how it made her feel. And yet she believed that she had risen from her body and now floating, looking downward onto the ground.

Seven rogue Death Eaters. Still wearing their masks. Still glaring at the girl who was a poster child for everything that went against their teaching. A muggle born who had succeeding in aiding the defeat of their Dark Lord.

She heard their taunts, she understood their threats. Yet still as they beat her down, kicking her wand to the other side of the room and proceeded to rape her. One after the other … then again. She refused to feel anything but numbness. She let it happen. Let them destroy her. Destroy everything about her. Rip her to shreds, take from her whatever sanity she had remaining as; with each passing second she stared into the cold dead eyes of the two people she knew would never intentionally leave her. The only two people in the world that when she needed them had always been there. The only people she trusted.

But they were dead too.

"Hey; hear that?" One of them asked in a hushed tone as a series of 'POP!'s could be hear outside the front window. Though the curtains were closed and the lights off it would be easy to make out the people on the ground, or the figures slumped in the corner, or the girl divest of any dignity or clothing who lay on the ground. Her body a shrine to human mauling. Subjected to things so unimaginable that there was the very real possibility that she would abstain from any further human contact. Taking her own life seemed pretty reasonable right about now.

"Hermione? Hey! 'Mione? We heard there was a disturbance 'round here."

Ah. Ronald. The very person who had begun this great tirade of self-loathing. How ironic that it would be he she saw in her last moments. That it would be he who saw her naked and broken on the ground. Surrounding her the Death Eaters bravely shot their wands to the sky and cast the dark mark over her house. Reminding the wizarding world that the threat was far from gone. Before they disaparated away from her home. Leaving her laying there. In a pool of her own blood. The stench of sex everywhere. Covering her young body just barely legal age for suck matters. But already she knew there was no hope for her. There was too much, too young.

"Hermione!" A second voice, more popping. It all blurred as one by one the Aurors arrived at the scene to take in what was surly going to be in the papers the next morning. Reaching across the room and crying out in agony as she reached into a cupboard and pulled out a long forgotten time-turner and grappled for her wand.

The others were only there in time to see momentarily the body of their best friend ruined beyond all belief before she silently mumbled a spell at the time turner and looped it over her head, only to have it pulled off at the last possible second. Sending her through time with no time-turner to fix things. No ability to stop as her body slowly began to regain feeling. With no friends, no parents, no life and no clothes … she found herself looking into a very familiar place. A memory it must have been. Hogwarts had never looked so beautiful. It was definitely something of her life flashing before her eyes. How ironic that the place that held almost all of her good memories, also brought with it the pain of dark and painful deaths surrounding her.

"Merlin! Padfoot! Prongs come quick!" Someone shouted. Her curled up body thankfully protecting something of her dignity, yet not by much. Or with not much need. The blood covering her was so thick it created a blanket effect over her torn and bruised body. The emotional trauma of it all leaving her with a dullness in her eyes. Life … yet, empty.

"Get Professor Dumbledore!" another shouted towards a fourth of the group. His slight pudgy figure made the rational side of her brain quickly interpret that it would take him far longer than the four well build boys currently staring down at her. Yet all thought was lost as she took a haggard breath. Her lungs struggling not to drown with the heavy amount of blood in them, causing a soft watery sound before her eyes closely lost focus. And the shouts became a fuzzy sort of muffle. And the world turned to darkness.

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**So im editing this to put it in the actual chapter amounts, this 12000 word chappy just meant i had put 4 chapters together in one. So i'm gonna upload them seperately now.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Check for details of the changes to the story uploading format. Im uploading this again, cause i did it odd the last time. But the newest chapter IS up. just gonna be chap 5.**

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**The muffled noises around her seemed to disorientate the holistic view that she generally took when observing her situations. Of course, when she usually took in her surroundings she wasn't overcome with a desperate need to break down and weep. Cry, as she had never allowed herself to do in front of people. Even when she cried for Ron last year … it was nothing compared to the soul breaking sobs that erupted from her tiny person as fat horribly heavy tears streamed down her bloodied up face. She could still smell it thick on her skin. There were no clothes to absorb it but her thick expanse of hair caught the brunt of the blood. Dying it a terrible shade of brick red instead of her normal chestnut brown. It matted her hair until the frizz was all but unnoticed. However, there was the strange feeling that at some point someone had given her a set of bedclothes. A hospital nightgown of sorts. Rather unnerving considering her last memory was of being brutally and viciously raped and beaten while being humiliated in her naked state of dress. At no point in her memory did she remember getting a new set of clothes so that remained a question. However, a more pressing one was the question of _who_ had given her something to wear. Death Eaters were not known for their kindness and around her she heard neither the reprimanding of Molly Weasley nor the note scribbling of a medi-witch from St. Mungos. Yet that dream … or memory as it seemed. She had believed totally that she was in Hogwarts once again. Yet that thought was rather sharply taken from her as she remembered bitterly the demise of Hogwarts which now stood in ruins somewhere deep in Scotland. Probably to this moment continuing to burn, the portraits suffering at the hands of the Death Eaters in much the same way as those who had given their lives for the safety of others. For the protection of the future generations.

Once more, that seemed to bring more hysteria from her and her sobs choked her as she found it difficult to breath. To think in coherent sentences that would give her any indication as to her mental state of wellbeing. However, the fact that she was unable to do such should have given away the fact that now there was no stability. She was lost somewhere in someone else's clothes with nothing to do but remain sitting. Wallowing …

The action was so familiar that the sobbing stopped instantly, her breathing stopping momentarily as huge drops of tears dropped down onto her chin and ran down her throat. Dampening her skin in a way that ran to the edges of the gown and caused the heavy sobbing breaths to return. Her parents … they too were now gone. Forever lost in the void of death that she knew was not able to be remedied. Less she bring them back in a necromancing sense. Moreover, there was no way she would ever put her parents through something like that. She was no monster. She was not able to do such terrible things to other people. To bring back those who had moved on and were at rest. It was abhorrent and completely against her better judgment and her life commitment to the rights of those around her.

"Oh dear!" a woman's voice called. It was gentle, yet there was firmness to it that gave the impression of authority. Or at least, of a commanding tone where anyone ordered would not think twice about obeying. "Oh dear, dear, dear. I didn't think you'd be up by now darling. That dreamless sleep draught should have held you over until sundown again." She said her voice soft and almost motherly.

Mum …

"Now, now love. Don't cry. It's alright. Here. I'm here jus-" a loud bang held the way for a group of young boys strolling through the room. Turning her head away from the abyss of the wall ahead of her, Hermione saw a group of four around her own age. One of them looking remarkably like…

"Harry?"

"What? Who's hairy?"

"Harry…" The words were spoken with such conviction that she turned her head to the woman who had been consoling her. "Madam Pomfrey … no. No, you can't be here. You're not here. Harry isn't here either, of god. Oh god it actually killed me didn't it." Hysteria returned as she raised hands to her ears and sobbed far more gently than she had before. Her tears all but run out after the bought she had before and an obvious lack of hydration meant that there was a raging headache that was looming over her head. She couldn't think straight. This boy wasn't Harry. He was too happy to be Harry. Harry was always just a gentle smile now and again, a laugh when he had some butterbeer down him. And his hair was longer. And where on earth was his scar. "No … oh no they got you." She said apologetically, looking at Harry with something skin to guilt. This was obviously another realm. She _had_ died. This _was_ the afterlife. And poor Harry had been caught up in the madness. One of the Death Eaters that had … had …

"My dear however puzzled I am as to how you know my name it is nice to see you speaking. Albus didn't know if you would even make it through the night. You've lost so much blood dear. It took four blood replenishing potions simply to get your poor heart working again. Then there was all the fluid in your lungs. It's a miracle you're even here dear. Now … much as these boys are part of the Hospital Wing with their constant presence I have to ask them to leave-" She said, pointedly looking at the four boys. "-we believe you have far more internal damage as well as several broken bones dear. And I need to _see_ the extent … externally." Her voice was soft enough that it was reassuring to hear. Yet madness all the same.

It wasn't until she felt an acute pain in her left side when she found herself lashing out and shrieking as loud as her lungs allowed. One of the boys had come to give her a small tap but had obviously misplaced something. And it **hurt**. Moaning in pain Hermione looked up bleary eyed at the medi-witch again with a look of befuddlement. Pain wracking her every so often, as she attempted to sit up and was firmly told to remain horizontal. "Why is it so sore? It's not meant to hurt when you die." Her voice now was so soft it was almost a whisper to herself. Yet the five others looked down at her wearily. The boys wondering how the girl had obviously ended up with them just as the sun had come up after a full moon. Remus had smelled the blood and it was intoxicating beyond believe. Yet the sight of her that the four had found gave them great concern for the female. Someone around their age they had estimated.

Prongs had heroically sacrificed his robes to wrap around her as Padfoot lifted her in his arms. The coldness of her skin worrying the boys as they wondered what it would be like to be seen carrying a dead girls bloody body the night after a full moon with a werewolf in tow.

"My dear do you know where you are?" The medi witch asked, her voice taking on a more professional tone.

"Ho-oh!-ogwarts." She said, gasping and wincing in pain as she shifted her right foot her breathing heavy and difficult as she looked up at Harry with a sad smile. He must be Harry she surmised. He had moved on, his parents would be around somewhere so he was happy. And he had no need of a scar where there was no Voldemort. Perhaps his dead soul preferred short hair.

"Mhm … and what year might it be my dear."

"1996 missss!" She hissed, refusing to acknowledge the look of upset on the womans fact as she lifted herself up. Her hands buckling slightly under the painful weight of her on presumably broken fingers. But she didn't care. She was dead and gone. She would see her parents again if that were the case.

"I'm sorry to inform you dear that you are very much confused. This is the year 19_76_. Though in twenty years time I do so hope we don't have to deal with this dreaded purist threat." She said, drawling off into a mumble as she looked down at the girls face. Which had gone from pale acceptance to grey, almost blue with panic. Her mouth was open in disbelief and she shook very gently, a thought passing through her head as she recalled the night she was taken from her home. The last time she looked into the familiar face of Ronald Weasley.

"The time-turner." She whispered, a hand rushing to her face. Successfully smearing more blood around her cheek and nose as she contemplated the pure size of the situation. "Madam Pomfrey, might I enquire as to the Headmasters name?" She asked boldly, a face of calm that the people of the media knew well to be the 'front' of Hermione Granger. The boys still looking at her oddly had gone off to sit by the bed of their friend who had lain down with a hand over his eyes. Somewhat uncomfortable looking. It made her wonder. 1976 … twenty years in the past. The year Harry's father, Remus, Sirius and Pettigrew had created the Marauders map as it had been divulged. The year that the medi witch claimed it was. She had jumped twenty years into the passed. How long had she modified the spell for the time turner? A day perhaps, a week at the most. Time turners only built for hour length turns at a time.

Ronald … He had pulled the time turned, effectively spinning the golden sand timer wildly. Apparently, adding with the spell he had taken her chance of escape when she was stuck twenty year in the past with no family, no friends. A wand she was thankful to find sitting aside her bed … but this was all wrong. Voldemort was on the rise; Peter had not betrayed his friends. That would come four years from now. Snape had not yet taken the mark. Voldemort was still reckless and powerful. Perhaps still under the guise of Tom Riddle.

"Why, Albus Dumbledore of course. What a great man. He defeated grindelwald you kno-"

"Yes yes, I know. Just _please_ I need to speak with Professor Dumbledore immediately. I-I … I need to speak with him. Oh god …"

"Enough of that young lady. I will alert the headmaster but it is early morning and I believe he must have countless other things to occupy his time than-"

"No need to summon me poppy. For I am already here." A voice spoke, clear and loud. Yet with a twinkling tone that made Hermione's heart soar. Dumbledore was alive … at least. In this time he was. How could he be so serene through the years she would never understand? However, she was more than simply glad to see him in the doorway. Blocking an image of rushing students. "Breakfast has just begun and I wished to check in on the female who graced out grounds last night. I believe young lady that you owe these four boys a debt of thanks. They brought you to both my and Poppy's attention very early this morning. I am however surprised to see you awake. Did you not receive a potion?"

"Of course she did Albus." the woman said, obviously ruffled that he dare insult her with the idea of less than thorough care. "However, it seems she is not only resistant to the potions. But believes it to be the year 1996. I worry how she knows my name however." The woman gave a stern look to the girl. Obviously willing her to say something that would make hr more aggravated.

"Sorry Madam Pomfrey." The girl said softly. "After the … uh … oh I can't say. But it seems that I've seen too much to make even the strongest potion work for longer than a few hours. I was advised to take at least four to get a restful night. So I apologise for the inconvenience." She said softly, her voice a mere whisper of what she remembered it was. Slowly however, she turned to look at the four boys again. No smile on her face, yet an expression of guilt, panic and most frighteningly … comfort had them worrying. "And I'm thankful boys. I really don't know if I would have survived after … I mean … I …" her voice broke off again as she looked pleadingly at the headmaster. "Sir I must speak with you urgently. I don't know what my being here may do to the delicacy of the situation. I … I cant say too much without … oh this is difficult" With a frustrated sigh and a painful groan as she shifted in the bed, Hermione attempted to find leverage as she raised up. Taking a deep breath and holding it as her face turned an ashen white as she held in the sounds of her pain. Under Cruciatus she found Death Eaters don't want to play with toys that don't respond well. It didn't mean her seven day kidnapping and torture was not enough to give her a knowledge of what it was like to _truly_ be in pain.

"Now child, please take a deep breath and I will sit by you as you explain. However I must insist that you refrain from moving as you see you have a very delicate state of being young one. You were given Skele-grow as much to my knowledge on my arrival and yet you are still healing. I fear you were harmed far more than we anticipated.

"They left me for dead. I'm not surprised they did a thorough job of it." She grumbled, not realising that across the far end of the room, a sandy haired boy heard every word she said. His keen senses so soon after a full moon meaning that he was able to listen quite closely to what people were saying without even trying.

"And by that you mean …"

"Professor, may I be brutally honest? I really don't think it's a good idea for me to talk _here_ in present company. It is unsafe for them. Heck its unsafe for you, but I do trust that you will be able to take it on board and not do anything reckless."

Her response only made the elder wizard chuckle. Mumbling something under his breath that she was 'remarkably like mother' in how she admonished his query with so few words.

"As you wish. However, I must again state that you owe these boys a debt of gratitude. Do not begrudge them at least of your name?"

It was out before she realised it. "Hermione Granger." Quickly replaced by a hand over her mouth and a short, sharp yet quiet curse. "They shouldn't know that. I shouldn't have said that. Oh god this isn't gonna be easy." Mumbling into her hand the young brown haired witch did not see the approach of the four boys. They were all devilishly handsome. Even the slightly pudgy one. He wasn't terribly bad looking, just rounder than the others. Reminding her sharply of Neville back in her own time. Dear sweet Neville had died killing the death eaters who tortured his parents. However, being beaten to the punch by the Weasley Matriarch as she sought revenge on her dead sons. He was adorable if it was honest. Adorable, yet there was a longing about him. She saw it in herself still. An eagerness to do anything to be accepted. No matter what it was.

"Potter. James Potter." The one she had called Harry said, nodding his head in greeting as the three sitting around the bed approached. The single figure remaining on the bed as the medi witch approached him with a number of vials of potions.

"Sorry for calling you Harry. You look far too much like someone I know … someone I _used_ to know; for your own good." She mumbled apologetically, nodding her head back.

"Peter." The pudgy one said softly. Nothing else.

"Peter." She said kindly, nodding her head again. The realisation dawning on her of her situation as the devilishly handsome dark haired boy smirked down at her and spoke in sultry voice she remembered from returning him from the veil twenty years in his future.

"Sirius Black. At your service gorgeous." His voice drawled out, gently as he cupped her hand and brought it to his lips, looking very quickly shot down as she grabbed her hand back and let out a yelp/ Her hand was not only covered in her own blood, but the heavy black bruises would remain with her for another few weeks at the very least. "I…I'm so sorry. I-I didn't mean … oh … hell." He said shakily, reaching out to offer his apologies but retracting his hand again as if the air had burned him. It only made her expression soften.

"sorry. I keep forgetting you guys kinda found me on the brink. Be glad you never have to go through that…" she said softly. Mumbling again into her hand as she heard a voice from across the room.

"I'm Remus. And I won't be an idiot and kiss your obviously broken hand but I will say you have no idea how glad I am you're alive!" There was almost humour in the statement. But it only made the girl look back at Dumbledore again and give him a pleading look. One that, from a girl covered in her own blood found naked in his school grounds would not be looked over.

"Gentlemen, I believe you will get another chance to acquaint yourself with Ms. Granger when she is well again, however I suggest that you leave the wing at this moment. I assure you, Mr. Lupin. She will be well looked after now that you have your potions away to class with you all. We will not accept lateness again may I remind you." he gave them a look that made the four of them beam eagerly, obviously being the reaction to the strange twinkling eyes that Dumbledore wore to his very death. It was a sad thought to know she had seen the day he died. That they _all_ died.

"Yes Headmaster." The all chorused, walking out of the room towing a groaning Remus behind them as he downed the many potions in his possession. Grimacing at the taste and leaving them before he too took his leave.

"Now I believe. Ms. Granger. That we have many things to discuss." the old wise man spoke, his voice retaining its gentleness yet his eyes diminishing their sparkle.

It was going to be a very long talk.

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********R&R*******


	3. Chapter 3

**and another one**

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After getting the mere gist of the information expelled toward him at such high speed, the Headmaster gave the girl a moment to take a deep breath under his instructions. Watching as she did so and replayed to him in a much softer voice that it was difficult to tell him anything without revealing too much. Beginning with her even being at Hogwarts in the first instance.

"Well, how about this dear. I simply say that I am impervious to any and all things that you believe will shock me as I feel very strongly it shall not. After all, I am known to be a great listener. Bon Bon?" He said softly, the sudden change of track made the Hermione a little confused yet watched as he produced a white paper bag from within his robes, taking out what looked to be a strawberry bon bon and popping it into his mouth beneath the large silvery white moustache and the ever long beard that was only slightly shorter than when she had known him in her own time. At her shake of the head he shrugged and returned the bag to its compartment. Delighting in the taste for a few moments before looking at her again and continuing. "I am a very old man my dear and many things have crossed my path in my youth. I fear no knowledge, as knowledge is the power which will succeed." He said with a wink and a grandfatherly grin that made her relax slightly more into the hospital bed. Something she had not experienced since second year when she woke after having been petrified by the basilisk. Memories of that year were overshadowed by the many other great adventures she and her friends had endured. The golden trio at such young ages fighting things adults feared. It was preposterous.

"If you are sure sir …" She said softly, taking a quick scan of the room and finding no-one that could hear in on her words. "Professor. I'm not from here. I swear to you I'm no threat to you or the students but I'm a potential thread to the timeline." She said in a hushed tone. "I last remember the date being summer 1996. We had defeated Voldemort-" She noticed his raised eyebrows at the name. "-here at Hogwarts and my two friends and I had become celebrities. Sortof. We were the ones who faced him off. Although it was Harry who really killed him. He's my age … or … will be." She said, mumbling to herself again as she tried to remember not to speak in the present or the past, but of the future. An odd sensation if ever there was. "My name _is_ Hermione Granger and I am a muggle born Gryffndor student here at Hogwarts. I was top of the year for the past six years … will be the top … and was _will be!_ a prefect." She sighed, looking at him for help for her situation. It was not easy changing tenses so quickly as she remembered that to remain in coherence she would need to adjust slightly. She could reveal nothing. She could change **nothing**!

"My dear girl. Don't confuse yourself. Simply remain in the mental timeline you remember as it will ease the process of adjusting." She offered wisely, the bon bon still stuck in his mouth as he gave her an almost youthful smile.

"Right. Yes. That may work. I must remember that if I'm to go back …"

"Oh I have no doubt that you will not be returning Ms. Granger."

"I beg your pardon?"

"And you have it dear, but unfortunately I must confess … Time-turners do not offer a 'future' setting as it were. As they are currently the only Time altering device on the wizarding market they would be our only chance of returning you. Be that as it may … you will remain here."

"oh no … Sir I **can't**. Truly I would love to live in a world where I am not plastered all over the daily prophet but I truly cannot. I know far too much about the people who attend here. It would be unwise for me to be anywhere in the link where I could change or alter time. Professor McGonagall always told me when I used the time turner not to be seen because it could alter time. And I almost got killed by a werewolf in my third year because I did not heed that advice and oh dear … sir … I know about _everyone_ about what they **will** do!"

"Be that as it may. We have no way to return you. And I have no connections within the ministry that could aid you in this problem child. I do however understand that there seems to be those who in your time see so little of your existence that you are broken to within an inch of existence. Now who would do such a-"

"Death Eaters." She said plainly. Noticing again the shock on his face.

"And yet you tell me you defeated the rising threat that is within my own time?" He enquired, obviously attempting to pick holes in her story.

"We did. But that did not excuse the fact that a muggleborn killed their leader. That Voldemort was finally defeated by three sixteen year olds barely coming into the world and not even of _age_ yet." She ran a hand through her hair, noticing the matting and groaned. Reaching for her wand on the bedside cabinet she gave a quick swish and the blood that one covered her had vanished. Much to the mirth of the headmaster and dismay of the healer.

"Miss Granger! You could have seriously injured yourself!"

"It was a spell. I am a witch. I have a wand. I am therefore inclined to use it after the war. I wasn't on guard that night I left … After my two friends deserted me well I sortof lost my way. I just sat and did nothing. Did no magic, practised no incantations, studied no spells. Nothing If I wasn't a hear ahead I would have been worried. But … " Sighing she looked at Madam Pomfrey with a redness in her cheeks at her admittance. "I was raped and beaten miss. My two muggle parents were eating dinner when my house was attacked by seven masked Death Eaters. When I got downstairs with my wand they were already thrown into the back corner and they … they used my shock to their advantage. Disarming me and kicking my wand away before they … they all … twice …" The small inconsistent breaths that she puffed out were not enough to keep her in check. Once again the hysteria over her situation came into blinding front and she came to the realisation that, after what Dumbledore had stated … she would never see her friends again. This was worse than being dead. Being dead meant a chance to see old ones lost, being list in time? A completely new scenario.

"I summised as such." The medic said with a heavy heart. "I did the necessary precautions on you dear. So there is no chance of some little one making its way into this world. But I must insist, do not become involed in anything too physically exerting for a while. I am sure the headmaster will be able to provide suitable space for you here dear. I would like to keep my eye on you."

"As a matter of fact Poppy you are once again correct. There is a bed in the Gryffindor dormitories that I assume is to your liking. By you're age I assume you are a sixth year?"

"I was, I was to start seventh year this year however."

"Never the less, I suggest that you retrain this year in sixth. It sounds to me you did not get much schooling last year." He spoke, the twinkle returning in his eyes as he watched her warily. Unsure of her honesty. "Now, as a matter of precaution, would you mind me searching your mind Miss Granger. If only so that I may confirm my suspicions that you are not a spy sent here to steal my study methods and report to the other Wizarding schools." The absurdity of what he had just said made the now un bloodied girl laugh gently. Her chest still painfully locked as the bones grew once again. Skele-grow was never a pain free option. But for the damage she had endured it was the only choice. With a short nod, Albus took his wand from his robe and pointed it at her with a stern face, giving her only a moments warning before she found her life flashing again before her eyes. Every second of every day for sixteen years. Her studious attempts to be just like everyone else. Harry, Ron … Voldemort. The final battle, the dead. Dumbledore's own death, Harry's parents story … everything."

Shaken physically from the mental attack, Hermione gave the man a small smile and a nod before she lowered her head and fell into unconsciousness.

* * *

Upon waking, The girl found herself in a familiar room. The heavy velvet draped covering a four poster bed with a small bedside table to her left where her wand was perched. A pair of bright green familiar eyes peering down at her from a very unfamiliar face.

"Oh thank goodness you woke up. Dumbledore warned me you might not wake up for hours, I was worried." The girl said softly. She was almost identical to Ginny that it was shocking many people never made the connection between Harry and Ginny to his mother and father. "I'm Lily Evans." She said, even softer. Her hands gripping the bottom frame of the bed anxiously as Hermione took in the surrounding room. She was no longer in the hospital dress; but a set of Gryffindor robes that she remembered all too fondly. It was saddening in a way. "Oh and don't worry. Professor Dumbledore said that you were to just transfigure robes if you need to for now. But I have loads of stuff and you look around my size so you can share mine if you like. Poor thing. I'm so sorry that it had to be those four who found you. Although, Remus im not surprised. Its that they had the audacity to … ugh!" The red head shook her head fiercely, reminding her once again of a certain red haired Weasley. It was almost uncanny.

"Im Hermione." She said weakly, trying to get up off the bed but finding herself hissing and landing back down again. The entire concept of being laid out like this was rather preposterous after all! She had been one of the three to take down Voldemort for Merlin's sake!

"I know." Her eyes glittered cutely before turning into a mask of horror as there was a banging on the door and a demand to be let into the room. Lily squared her shoulders and have a 'one moment' finger to Hermione as she rose from the foot of her bed and made her way over to the door. Opening it and about to obviously tell the boys to leave while they burst in headfirst. Falling to the ground and laughing good naturedly.

"C'mon Lily, we just wanted to see the girl. We saved her life you know" Sirius spoke with mock hurt and offence, James shortly after picking up where his best friend left off while Remus stared at her on the bed closest to the door. Her hair fanned out around her in a frizzy mess and her Gryffindor robes far better than what was her last attire.

"hey." She said in the same weak voice she had used with Lily. Finding all ten eyes focused on her as the four males clambered over to get a good look at the girl, Lily simply looking on with guilt. "No worries Lily. I need to thank them anyway." She said softly, once again hardening her face and making quick work of lifting herself from the bed and sitting upright, her back against the headboard as she focused her eyes ahead and slowly let out a breath, hitching in the middle as a shot of pain crumpled her reserve. "Thanks though. I swear, I owe you. I don't think I'd have been here if you had found me even minutes after you did. The plan was for me to be killed by I guess I was underestimated." She said softly, a small laugh rumbling through her as the group looked on in shock. She just made a _joke_ about nearly being killed.

"You knew who did this to you?" Lily enquired, not having heard anything other than she was injured and found unconscious by the marauders.

"Of sorts. I don't know _who_ they are personally, but I knew **what** they are. It's not the first time they've tried it. I've always been better at getting away alive." She murmured, keeping herself from making eye contact with anyone. She was choosing her words carefully after all. One false accusation and the entire fabric of time could tear. With a heavy sigh she chanced looking up and saw the furious expressions on four very angry students looking down at her. So much so that she cringed away from their heated looks and hissed in a wince. Closing her eyes momentarily to regain herself before opening them and finding herself unable to meet the faze again. "Its not like I wanted this to happen you know. Yea, I should have been more careful. Yea, I knew better to let my guard down or even to have put wards up but no. I didn't cause I was moping and depressed so I'm Sorry alright!" Exasperated the girl deftly swung herself from the bed. Ignoring the burning pain the same way she had done before. Letting a numbness envelop her; stemmed from the angry gazed that without her knowledge had softened to sympathetic awe as she, still in pain got herself out of the bed and began making her way -grabbing anything steady in her path- toward the door so that she could make her way to Dumbledore and ask to leave. Hell she would live in the muggle world away from magic if it meant she was away from any distractions.

"And where do you think you're off to kitten?" Sirius asked in a bemused voice, his hands on his waist in a reprimanding expression caused James to snort, but backed down when his expression became darker. "You are not leaving here until you can look me in the eye and tell me you cant feel any more pain."

"I don't let the pain get to me. that's the point Sirius. Trust me … I've had worse." She mumbled, continuing to make her way to the door before finding her path blocked by two marauders, the three remaining figures at her back. "C'mon guys. I'm tired, I wanna see Dumbledore and just want to leave this godforsaken place" She said softly, although the heavy undertone of pain laced each word. It was not pain physically that was affecting her judgment. Instead the pain of having lost a part of her that loved the school she found herself in. Of a pain which stemmed from the images of bodies lying all around her. Of killing and seeing others be killed. By some strange twist of fate; Hermione found herself wishing that she had just let herself succumb to the pain back home. Perhaps if she reached for the time turner, or spelled it different. If she had eaten dinner with her parents out instead of staying in. If she hadn't been moping about the house for months on end … she could still have been relatively happy. Letting her face fall only slightly, Hermione found herself brushing away stray tears and defiantly looking into the eyes of a man whose life she had saved more than once. "Sirius Black I ask you to let me leave. If not for my sanity then for your own safety. None of you are safe with me around. Trust me."

"Now see that's the nut shell. Why should we?"

The shock of being forced to think so clearly for a second made her momentarily register pain and she ground her teeth together. Standing on broken legs with a broken hip. Clever work for the 'smartest witch of her age' "Pardon?"

"like I said. If anything you should be the one trusting us. We did save your sorry ass out there after all." He replied sharply, the words cutting. But doing their job effectively. Causing her to take a step back and realise she was not in her own time. No-one knew who she was or indeed _what_ she was. For all they knew she could be a vampire!

"That's my point. You cant trust me. You're trust has been earned by saving me, but I've done nothing. I could be bloody Voldemort in disguise for all you know!" She hissed. Watching with a strange sense of glee as they all shrank back. Wincing at the use of his name. "Or should I call him Thomas. Since that was the name his muggle father graced him with?" She said menacingly. Showing something dangerous in the way she was lying to them. Having imitated Bellatrix to gain entrance to her vault and having been Crucio'ed by her enough times to last a lifetime was it any wonder that she could so convincingly become something she was not without anyone thinking twice about it? "Or would you prefer I give him his fear filled title of 'You-Know-Who'. it's a name. Just like Sirius or Lily. There is nothing about a name that makes up a person."

"A rose, by any other name would smell as sweet."

Turning around, Hermione nodded her head in single motion at Remus behind her as his instantaneous reciting of Shakespeare. It sounded marvellous from his tongue.

"By all means, lie Hermione. But Dumbledore has me under strict rules. Until Madam Pomfrey deals with your broken pelvis, both your legs and the seven ribs that were puncturing your lungs. You. Will. Not. Leave."

"Petrificus Totalus!" James said gleefully. Thankful for being able to use his main method of intimidation for something other than poor Severus. "Wingardium Leviosa!" Slowly, the boy levitated the frozen girl to the bed and gently placed her down. "I didn't know it was that bad." He mumbled.

"Finite incantatem." Remus finished when she was safely nestled on the nest of pillows and blankets.

"You don't know the half of it." Hermione mumbled into the pillow. No longer hiding as she turned her head away from the ground; the large tears rolling down her face. She could still see it. See every single one of them as they took her. Each time trying to aim at breaking a bone. The fingers by then were done. Crushed under their knees as they held her open for the others. Humiliating her. Degrading her. After all. "Just cause I'm muggleborn." She whimpered. Not relishing in the gasp, nor the hand on her shoulder. Warm and inviting in the least she did not look round to see the worried face of Remus as he held back the small whine in the back of his throat. Stupid wolf instincts … it had never acted up before. Perhaps it was the scent of her blood that had sent him into a stupor over her. He would need to research this.


	4. Chapter 4

**That wasn't too long a wait was it? Remember, R&R**

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That afternoon when the rest of the students were sitting in the great hall or the common rooms awaiting the beginning of the new term Hermione found herself reluctant to even move a muscle to look around her. She simply closed her eyes and let her consciousness drift back to another time. A time that was yet to be so it seemed. How could have been so stupid as to tamper with the delicate balance that was time and space? Who was she to decide what did and did not happen to these people and how could she even be sure that it would make a difference if she had done anything. Sure, neither Sirius nor Remus had admitted to having seen her in the past; but did that mean they had simply forgotten about her or was it that they had been charmed to never remember. To be _alleviated_ of sorts. She had read somewhere that such spells were complex and rarely ever successful in completing the task. The power of the human mind something that even the strongest of wizards and witches struggled to control without the Imperius curse. At some point however, Hermione was determined that she would return to her own time. She could not simply go back to an era that had passed and integrate herself into the lives of those around her. Not when she knew in four years two of them would be dead, one would betray them all and another incarcerated in Azkaban for a crime he didn't commit without chance of a trial nor of parole. It was saddening but it was a truth she had come to believe over the years. Added to the fresh pain of her parents deaths Hermione now understood Harry's determination to find family that loved him.

At the thought of her family she felt the prickle of tears at the corner of her eyes again. It had began as a simple reflex; her crying. She had never allowed herself the luxury of tears when she was on the road hunting horcruxes or fighting off Death Eaters. Or against the things in the Department of Mysteries, or trying to help her friend through a tournament meant for older wizards and witches, saving one of those students beyond those same doors from killing another and being sent back to prison on the back of a _Hippogriff_ no less. Or giving said friend during second year to defeat an unknown Horcruxe and a Basilisk in the chamber of secrets or no less, defeating a reincarnation of the dark lord that in their first year had attached himself to one of their professors and tried to kill them all with the Philosophers Stone. Letting her figure out how to defeat _every single_ obstacle in their path all the while that she sat back and ignored te pressing feeling that the boys were in a way taking advantage of her need to prove her worth. Letting her do their work for them, at all times. Whether it be Voldemort or Potions class there had never been a moment when Hermione truly felt like she belonged with the boys. Sure, she was a fountain of knowledge that in the long run was invaluable to the success of the Prophecy. However apart from that what use was she to them? Had they ever really gotten to know her _at all_ or was she just their little resident know-it-all who no matter what the circumstance would find a way to get them out of their predicament be it throwing herself into the clutches of a crazy Bellatrix Lestrange or brewing a Pollyjuice potion years too advanced for anyone in their year or heaven forbid it … getting them out of detention.

Hermione, as she sat on her bed in the dorm room could feel the cold rising emotion under her skin. Rising from her cut, leaving the tingling frost in its wake as the harsh reality sunk in. She was trapped within a time not her own with people who's fate she knew would come to an early demise. It was sickening to think of her doing absolutely nothing. But she had been warned by her Professor that meddling with the timelines that such horrible consequences could occur that she was not truly willing to do anything about it. How could she call herself a Gryffindor and find herself not brave enough to even try and fix the many heart aches that occurred during her own timeline. Who was to say that her meddling would be noticed? If she worked at it correctly …

Still that did not hide the fact that she was here, in effect with only her wand. Not even with clothes on her back, she had no money, no home, no parents … she was in far deeper than perhaps she had anticipated. How was she to get by with nothing?

A terrible thought sprung to mind, but she knew that being Hermione no such thing could ever happen. Before being raped in her own home Hermione had indeed been a virgin. A sweet, innocent sixteen year old virgin who had killed before she turned fifteen. What a sad, pitiful existence she had condemned herself to.

Why could she not have simply left herself to die on the floor of her home. At least then she knew her friends would be able to bury her and have a proper funeral. Here she knew no-one. And she was not willing to take any charity from other students. No .. she would need to see Professor Dumbledore about immediately leaving the school. She could not tamper with the delicate fabric of existence. Who knew what sort of implications that it could have where she to say … tell the group that Pettigrew would betray them … no. That would not do.

Even still, the words of Sirius Black still rang in her ears. Why would they trust her anyway. She was a stranger, something of an Enigma that was without question someone who could _not_ be trusted.

"I really messed this up." She said softly with a sigh. Hearing a soft shift of fabric and finding Lily leaning over her gently, her smile full of concern for someone she knew to have been treated terribly. Would it be too terrible to give her just a simple smile back? The shifting of her facial muscles brought a sigh of relief from the pretty red head. However all Hermione found herself interested in was the bright green eyes that had once been found in the face of the saviour of the world, Harry Potter. Who by some sort of joke was the exact carbon copy of his father in this time. What sick twist of fate believed that alright for anyone involved. To see that the boy she had grown so fond of … seen as her brother … as the cocky playboy who in four year time would die trying to protect a girl who had yet to date him.

Fate sucked.

"Hey there." she whispered gently, sitting down beside Hermione on the bed and watching as the witches face shifted back onto a frown. This was very, very wrong. She should not be here, she should not in this time _exist_ let alone meddle in the future.

"Hey yourself." She replied, a small quirk of a smile on her lips as she watched the girls face light up gleefully. "shouldn't you be down with your friends in the common room?" She added, watching the girls face fall into a look of revulsion.

"The marauders are down there. Don't wanna join them."

"How about if I go too? I think I need to read something to get my mind off …" Trailing off Hermione turned her head to the side and brought a hand to her face hastily to rub the water from her eyes. "Um … I should catch up." She mumbled, covering her tracks as neatly as she in her current state could.

"You sure? You've been cooped up her for a week now. I know you're all mended but seeing them might make you go into remission." The girl said light heartedly, her face honest and careless. How time would change her.

"No point staying like this." She said softly, rising from the bed and swinging her legs off the other side of the bed. Transfiguring one of the cushions by her bed into a pair of red slippers she stood upright and straight. Her brown frizzy hair tightening with another quick swish of her wand. A handy spell she had picked up from Ginny after the war. One of the few things the girls had done together since the end of the war … after everyone was gone there was not much point in really getting dressed up. But for the major celebratory event for the downfall of the darkest wizard of all time the red head had shown her friend how to keep her nest at bay, if there was nothing to be done about it. "Besides, I really _do_ need to study." She said softly, thinking as to how she was going to pull off the charade of actually figuring out what spells were and were not still around in this time, what potions were available and which transfiguration spells were strictly off limits.

"Good! Now, wanna try something more comfortable than transfigured robes?" Lily asked excitedly, looking at the girl in her frumpy robe with a slight cheeky grin. If ever there was anyone like Ginerva Weasley …

"I don't _have_ anything other than a transfigured robe. You know that lily."

"But **I** do! C'mon! I don't get to share clothes with many people. We have a similar figure and im guessing they can be shrunk depending on it they're too baggy." the kindness behind the offer caught Hermione by surprise and with a small - albeit apprehensive - smile, nodded her head. Earning a squeal from her room mate and found herself being dragged towards the girls trunk. An array of clothes being thrown her way. "Since you're muggleborn too I'm assuming you don't mind muggle clothes. The people around here just don't know how to wear a good pair of jeans for goodness sake."

"Can't really Imagine Professor Dumbledore walking about in jeans if I'm honest."

"Oh my gosh you made a _joke!_"

"Ah yes, humour. If I'm not mistaken the intended reaction is actually laughter. Not a correctly placed affirmation of the intended phrasing."

"Oh we're going to be _best_ friends! The guys simply don't understand …" She said with another squeal. Aiding the girl in getting herself dressed before looking down at her work. The soft faded navy skinny jeans clung to Hermione's legs like a second denim skin. Showing off the way her hips flowed out from her synched waist. Though it was nothing to be terribly proud of Hermione had always remained on top of her figure, and after a year of starving herself on the run and fleeing from her life after the final battle her tummy had just the smallest hint of a bulge that could be considered healthy. After all, further up her abdomen was close to exposing her ribs it seemed, from the way Lily tutted over her anyway. "So skinny." She murmured once, yet refrained from saying any more. The inch of skin above the hem of the jeans showed off the creamy skin below the soft powder blue top. Across the front it read the band name '_The Eagles_'. One which surprisingly Hermione found she knew from her … her parents. They had loved their music, her mother especially.

Still, it gave the illusion of cleavage as it clung to her breasts and left a small gap between the fabric and her tummy when she moved. If she didn't know any better Hermione Granger would say she looked … cute. There would never be a moment when she looked at her reflection and saw beautiful. The scars on her body seeing to that f course.

"Hey, what happened here?" Lily asked, referring to a particular scar that began on her right shoulder and carried on the land just below her left breast. Dolohov's curse had given her a lasting reminder of the darkness in the world. And it was something that simply added to the now many scars littering her body. Of course it was thicker and a dark ugly purple colour while the others faded to a soft pink. It was repulsive and immediately Hermione raised her hands self consciously to hide it, looking at Lily with a pleading expression that begged her not to push the answer from her. After all, what was she going to say? 'I was helping your son retrieve a prophecy in the ministry of magic when it was in Voldemort control and got cursed by a Death Eater who probably only left this school a year or so ago'. Not a likely thing to tell the people of this time she felt. No, the less known about her the better. "Oh … um. Sorry, didn't mean t-to ask it's just … it looks sore is all."

"Hurts every time I breath." Hermione confirmed with a short nod of her head, her voice lowering a pitch or two to show that she knew there was no harm meant in the words. But simply retaining pain that hid behind the words. She still had nightmares after the battle, the things she had seen were too much for her after being flung into the wizarding world at eleven with no prior thought to or. Or that magic itself existed. She had been crowned 'brightest witch of her age' by default because of her continued studying despite everything that went on in the world. If anything were to be confirmed in their world it was that Hermione jean Granger was in a library somewhere researching one thing or another … or in many cases concerning her; both. There was never any indication that she or any of her friends had been anything other than platonically caring of each other, so while rumours of her affair with Harry during the Triwizard tournament went on she was growing more and more fond of Ronald. She had tried so hard to make him look at her. But for some things in her life; she simply did not succeed. "Doesn't matter. No way to rid myself of it. Trust me, it's been tried." she mused, running a finger along it softly, grimacing at how terrible it looked before she pulled the top up slightly. Exposing more of her tummy but effectively covering up the heinous injury she had gained protecting the owner of the tops son.

This was beginning to get complicated.

"Come on then, I'm gonna study transfiguration I think. I was never any good at it."

"I can help if you like."

"Hey now come to think of it; how can you do so much magic. I've never seen you around."

"Better you don't ask questions, Lily. For your sake as well as mine." She said softly, following the red head toward the door when, upon opening Lily heaved a sigh.

"Potter." She grumbled before continuing to walk. Her posture was stiffer and Hermione still clutched the top where she covered her ugly scar. Finding it terribly too low for her to even considering letting it go. If someone saw the scar and questioned, she doubted the marauders would let it go as easily as her room mate. "C'mon then. Lets get away from them before they see-"

"Evans!" A male voice shouted cheerfully, followed by a thunderous stamping of feet against the ground as within seconds James Potter stood at the door of the girls dormitory. Gazing down in awe at Lily, there was no doubting the boy was besotted. But by the expression on her face, Lily was not. "Haven't seen you in ages!"

"you saw me at breakfast. And I saw your terrible prank on Severus again. You really need to stop antagonising him!"

"Snivellus needs to loosen up. Not my fault he puts too much grease in his hair."

Ah yes, Harry had once explained the on going feud between his father and Professor Snape. It was difficult to even think of him as a teenager, let alone being within close enough proximity to _see_ him. It was a terrible thought to know that Harry's father had treated him so terribly. Sirius of course remained until his death, unrepentant. Remus simply stating that he neither joined in nor attempted to halt the proceedings. Staying a steady on looker while not participating. Still it did not make her feel any less disappointed in the man she had steadily gained an appreciation for over the years. Since he taught her in third year, Hermione found herself drawn to the Werewolf. During his full moon attack on them Hermione could clearly remember howling out at him to distract his attention. How invigorating it had felt to do such a thing. It was like she had been waiting for it; and to hear his returning howl that had seemed so soft … so broken. It was wondrous. Even if at the same time they fled for their lives.

That day had stayed with Hermione ever since. Reminding her that there was a danger to Remus Lupin; yet there was also a compassion to do what was right, even if it meant his own ultimate demise.

"Just leave him alone Potter. It's not funny anymore. You _broke_ his _nose_!" The utter disgust was evident in her words as Hermione watched with a strange sickening glee. It was like a car crash you drove past, still slowing down to take a good long look even when you know someone died and there should be no-one looking in on such a disastrous event.

When she was younger Hermione always tried to avoid confrontation. Partially the reason she became so interested in books; but also because from the moment she found out she was a witch she had strived to do exactly what Dumbledore had told her to be. An equal to the rest of the wizarding world. Not a Mudblood, or a muggleborn. But simply a witch who had feelings, wants, dreams. The same as anyone else.

Hermione dreamed of that day where her knight in shining armour would come and rescue her while she was held captive by some form of evil; crashing through windows if necessary on his white worse. Sword drawn, ready to sweep her off her feet and carry her away so they may make love under a sun set and live happily ever after. Fantasies however. Never came true.

"'Scuse me … " Hermione said softly, stepping around the bickering couple to find herself faced with the odd sensation of eyes being trained on her. Something she knew well from being a celebrated war hero in her own time. Hero. Pah. Lucky to be alive? Very much so. She was no more a hero than a kneazle was a fairy. Slowly descending the stairs she heard the continued argument between Lily and James, smirking inwardly at the knowledge that not long from now they would be the happiest couple in Hogwarts. Head boy and girl … perfect for each other.

"Damn Kitten where have you _been_ all my life!" Came the rowdy voice of Sirius from the sofas surrounding the grand fireplace. Shaking her head forlornly Hermione simply made her way to the bottom, still clutching for dear life the top and making her way over to the library and picking out a book on 'Advanced Transfiguration' and setting down with it at one of the nearby desks. "Aw c'mon doll. I don't bite. Well … yes I do. But only if you're into that sort of kinky stuff." He said, grinning broadly. All the while ignoring the tense and practically volatile expression on his werewolf friends face. There was no excuse for his crass and downright lewd comments but for lack of a better word, Hermione shunned his words from her. Ignoring their implications, ignoring their subject manner and ignoring him. She needed to work. She needed to get some sort of plan together. She needed to get home.

"Sirius! Down boy! Heel!" James hollered from the top of the steps with a chuckle. Noticing the wilting figure of their rescued woman and giving her an odd look before returning to his space beside his friends by the fire. Practically leaping onto it as the object of his desire followed the path toward the strange girl and put a hand on her shoulder. Noticing the wince and backing slowly from her. Motioning for her to come with her to some nearby chairs. It was close enough to the group to listen in and for them to feel te benefit of the fire. But far enough away so that they could be termed as not sitting with the marauders.

The first time they had really seen the girl in a week and came out looking far more like a living breathing human than the last time they had seen her. There were still bags under her eyes and the tell tale criss cross of small scars littered her arms and neck. They pitied her. And pity was something that very few people had for Hermione Granger.

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**R&R people!**


	5. Chapter 5

**i'm putting these out faster than i had expected so I'm gonna put this out to the masses now. I need a Beta. And I cant find one. anyone interested please lemme know.**

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" … no the incantation needs to be said during the _third_ flick, not the second. I had to spend a long time turning my poor turtle back after it ended up halfway transfigured. Poor little thing." Hermione mused, watching as Lily attempted to practise her transfiguration work. She was very limited to how easily she could create things it could be said; but it seemed that her affinity with potions meant that in that field she was able to _finally_ unabashedly ask for help on the subject of amortea. When she had last attempted the potion she found that instead of finding what true love smelled like -_Parchment, pine, ink and chocolate_- she had found what did _not_ smell like true love. And which made her retch for the next few hours of lessons. A smug professor snape taking countless points off Gryffindor for her lack of concentration. She did wonder how he and Lily had ever been friends. They were so distinctly not alike. "Plus, this one makes me think that the poor turtle is in pain I mean … if it ends up with its head on top of the spout of a kettle … it has to be painful right? So this one really does need a lot of focus." The chestnut haired witch mused, running an ink smudged finger over the text she was reading from while simultaneously taking notes with the other, not looking at her parchment but knowing fine well how to take notes while reading something at the same time. It had helped her on numerous occasions. "Plus, I wouldn't feel put off, I really wanted to take transfiguration for the chance to see what my Animagus would look like if I completed the work for it. It looks like _a lot_ of heavy reading but I think I could manage it. I'd need to wait until after I leave of course, If I'm not registered I don't want to cause any trouble with the ministry."

Of course, the ministry would want to know why an unknown student with no family, no -one knowing her and no passing grades had become an Animagi. They would ask questions, perhaps put her away from being a suspected Death Eater. No, Hermione couldn't go through being held captive again, she couldn't sit in some cell for an unknown amount of time like she had at Malfoy Manor. There was absolutely no way that she would be able to cope if that happened. Her mental stability in the mean time was so fragile it was an astonishing feat to see her as she worked her way through countless texts, managing to coach not only Lily in transfiguration but one of the other females in the house on her charms work. Hermione was an excellent student. It would be strange when classes began to not throw her hand in the air to answer questions and come off _too_ smart. That could end in disaster. There was clearly no easy way of distinguishing what she could and could not do given the circumstances. There was no way to _avoid_ the marauders, or Lily. As they had felt it their mission to integrate themselves into her life, yet she knew that meddling with the forces of time was something not even she with her heightened intelligence should have attempted.

She hadn't even meant to go back this far! Twenty hours at the most. Not twenty _years_!

But it was done now. She had no way of returning, she would need to accept that for now she was trapped in a time not her own; helping her best friends mother study for an exam that Hermione would need to take again due to not having actually say any of the exams.

"Hermione!" Lily said frustrated, waving her hand in front of the girls face and causing her to jump, effectively making her quill run over the length of the parchment she was writing on. What made her squirm however was the way that Lily was looking at the words she had subconsciously been tracking. A log of her thoughts, tracking from professor Snape and his stupid taking points from her house to how she was helping 'Harry's Mum' do her homework. "What gives Hermione?" She asked in a frustrated voice, snatching the parchment from her room mate without a second thought and moving away. Causing the new girl to stand slowly, her hand moving to her top self consciously as she shook her head and mumbled. "Don't read it, don't read it." Over and over, walking towards the red head with a pleading expression.

"No, Hermione. You don't answer questions and then you write _this_?-" She indicated by waving the parchment around a little. Causing the Marauders to look up from their plotting and become interested. "If I didn't know any better Granger I would ask you about it; but you wouldn't tell me would you. You don't tell anyone anything. You don't tell us why Dumbledore has secret meetings with you, you don't tell anyone why you ended up here or by what means might I add, and you won't tell anyone about how you got all those bloody marks but **this** I am not letting go."

"Lily Evans you will give me that back if you don't want to be thrown in into a whole load of troubles in your very near future. You're not _allowed_ to know what I know. And that's through a power far higher than Dumbledore himself so I will ask nicely. Give. Me. That. Back." It was the first time that Hermione really looked like the war veteran that she had been groomed to be since she turned eleven. Her eyes took on an almost fiery quality, her arms taught and stiff, wand hand twitching to grab the wooden implement of focused magic and simply _Accio_ the parchment. But in doing so she would alert the others around her that this was something not just between the two girls. "If you do not give me that back Evans, I swear on your sons life you will regret it." She threatened, patting the side of her jeans where her wand was situated. At this point, letting go of the top and reaching a hand out to her room mate. "That's not a threat, Lily. That is what will happen." She said softer, everything about her shouted attack mode and without realising it the four boys stood tightly around their red haired companion. Effectively blocking her from getting to Hermione even if she wanted to give her back the parchment.

"My son? You have some cheek Hermione. I don't have a son."

"you will do. I'm breaking so many rules even letting you know that but you will. I can't say much more without seriously damaging the future. So please, Merlin just give me that."

"Evans? What is it."

"Here, lemme!" Sirius said excitedly, tugging the parchment from the red heads grip and rushing off toward the other side of the room. Causing Hermione to simply sigh and walk towards the fire. Sitting down in front of it with her knees to her chest and scowling into the orange dancing flames. "Evans you got it all wrong. The girl's probably messed up in the head. She calls this kid Harry Potter all the time, and you and James ain't getting freaky with it any time soon." He said, laughing hysterically at her writing. "And _Professor_ Snape? The day Snivellus gets to be professor is the day I give up women!" He guffawed. If only he knew how much that would result in not eight years in the future. Into _her_ future.

"Really? Gimme that!" James had rushed over to his friends side and was currently staring at the parchment with a look of both awe and confusion. "Hey Granger, you a seer or something?"

But she did not answer.

Hermione simply sat silently in front of the fire, watching as the flames licked up the back wall, the plumes of smoke it delivered shooting up through the chimney and into the unknown. It was interesting … there were no real chimneys in the school. Odd. Of course she expected it was something to do with the way the school was connected to the floo network. Couldn't have floo dust in the atmosphere now could they?

"Granger I asked you a question." He repeated, a smug grin on his face at his assurance of power.

"Yes, yes you did." She said simply, still not answering the question and causing Remus to simply snort and laugh at the backfired plan from the unofficial leader of the Marauders. He however could sense something was more wrong than just few written down oddities that did not fit with their surroundings. Sure, Evans and Potter had been doing the dance of love for the past few years and it was only a matter of time. And Snape _was_ good at potions. Slughorn could learn a thing or two from the kid. But there was something else about the girl that he simply could not shake off. It was like a draw toward her, like if he was to keep her safe she would feel better. She was so fragile looking when they first brought her to the hospital wing. Explaining with panic and worry on their faces that this was not a prank gone wrong and that they were returning from a full moon when they saw the girl lying on the edge of the forest like that. Now she had a strange wall around her. Like she was holding back, hiding something. If he hadn't been able to see her forearms so clearly he might have suspected her as a Death Eater. That was after all where they were rumoured to lurk. But she didn't have one. Just a look of … loss. That was the best way to describe her. She was lost. Of course being someone who was so secretive it was impossible to determine for what reason she found herself unable to become comfortable in her own skin within the walls of Hogwarts. Surly she knew that this was the safest place in the wizarding world.

Well … not of a full moon anyway.

When the full moon came around, Remus felt the draw from the moon, her light bathing the ground as he came over in the terrible transformation. Painful and frightening from a young age he had learned to deal with the cracking of bones, of stretching skin. Of hairs pushing their way through his body, of growing a tail. He may have gotten used to transforming, but there was no way he felt comfortable enough not to cry out during the transformation.

Those had been the most lonely moments of his life, sitting in the shrieking shack. By himself. No-one to comfort him as his mother had tried to before when he was a child. It had ended terribly for her. And his father. He never spoke much about his parents other than the marauders, they understood that due to his 'condition' his parents were never home during the holidays. Most of which he spent sleeping over at the Potters or here in Hogwarts. It was a safe haven for him even when he couldn't tell anyone his secret.

Yet even when he could not tell his friends about his 'furry little problem' he found that he still tried to enjoy school life. Not keep himself hidden away from the rest of the world. So it wasn't something that he could totally relate to.

"Just ignore them. They're prats." He said softly, shifting from his comfortable chair to the floor beside her. Mimicking her position. One he had so many times fell victim to sitting in during the nights of the full moon. "Prats; but mainly harmless if you get on their good side."

"I know." She said quietly, the crack in her voice causing his heart to physically break. She sounded as broken as she had looked. A Gryffindor should not have to be a lone one, no matter what.

"Hey, how about this. Those two or anyone else bug you; just lemme know. Kay? I'll watch out for you." He offered, seeing her shrug and mumble something incoherent along the lines of 'if only you knew'. But she nodded none the less, even if she had turned away from him slightly. It was a start if anything. "Right then. Lets start with this." He put a hand gently on her shoulder before standing upright and walking over to the boys and Lily who were now laughing at James attempt to show McGonagall how good at Quidditch he was, and subsequently being given a weeks detention scraping the floors of the owlry without magic. Giving them a single look and opening his hand for the piece of parchment. The expressions they all suddenly sported told him exactly how little they trusted the new girl, yet knew that when Moony was absolutely set on something they were good not to do otherwise.

"She's not right you know." James said seriously, pushing up his glasses from falling down the bridge of his nose as Lily streaked away, minding herself that she had just laughed with James and Sirius. Even if it _was_ hilarious to imagine James scrubbing the muggle way. "Something just doesn't fit. I'm probably gonna ask my father to search for her family." He said more to Sirius than Remus; yet he handed over the parchment which they had scanned for anything dangerous, only finding hilarity in the words.

"Doesn't mean you have to be a prat. I mean … _look_ at her. She looks more lost than I did." He said quietly, looking back over his shoulder at Hermione who had begun tearing at odd bits of parchment she had from the table and throwing them into the fire. Each piece tiny and full of hurt. Watching something burn … even to the nicest of people could be a hypnotic state. To see the way the untouchable flames tore apart anything that it could latch on to. A hand, some paper … anything hat it could burn it would curl around and eat away at. Turning it from one thing into another. Neither Remus nor Hermione could say there were a fan of fire. But it _was_ soothing. "Don't be a prat 'cause you don't know her and she doesn't play by your rules." He added, more sternly as he took the paper from his friend and walked back over the fireside. Offering it down to her. "If they touch you. I'll deal with them. Alright?" He reminded, watching her nod slowly, and carefully reach for the parchment. Exposing a little bit of the dark skin below the line of the collar. It made Remus jump back in shock. Perhaps he had been wrong about the dark mark? It was the only thing that sprung to his mind as he saw her catch his gaze and cover it up ashamedly. Taking the parchment and slowly reading over the offending sentences that she had mistakenly written down.

With a snarl she troe at the parchment and threw it in the fire. Her eyes shining more than they had once been.

It was all Remus could do to simply watch as she stood from the floor and stalk back up the stairs to the girls dormitory, a hand over er eyes as she lazed her way past a shouting James and Sirius and slamming the door behind her. Not even Lily stirred from her seat by the study table. Yet she could help but look over at the notes that had been left for her to use. She was astounded at the amount of studying the girl could do at one time, her mind simply absorbing any and all information that passed her way. Everything _except_ potions. However that came as a fine art much like cookery, too little or too much and everything was a mess. And while Lily struggled with the theory behind much of her studies in Transfiguration; the notes she had written were like a key into understanding. In fewer words she managed to show Lily more about what she had been struggling with than Professor McGonagall could ever hope to achieve.

On the other side of the girls dormitory, pacing the floor. Hermione let her eyes leak with tears as she subconsciously rubbing up and down the scar that traced across her upper body. Hissing at the pain of it being disturbed. That would forever be a curse she live with. The pain that the ugly purple scar could provide her with. A constant reminder that even in another time, she could relive the pain of losing so many for a cause that in the end she still lost the things most important to her. Sobbing silently with the hand running harder against the scar Hermione found a sick pleasure in the pain. It was hers and hers alone to be burdened with; it would never go away. The pain of the night in the Department of Mysteries … of watching the same Sirius black that was downstairs calling her out; die. She couldn't go through that again. She couldn't let something like that happen.

She had to stop it happening. All of it.

Taking a deep breath and using a spell to remove the effects of crying Hermione rubbed her eyes free from tears and turned toward the door that lead to the common room. She was not going to go through it again. She would change history. Harry would have his mum and Dad, the marauders would not have the chance to be betrayed by Peter. He would not be one who was taken in by Voldemort and his power hungry ambitions that in Twenty Years time would fail at the hands of a sixteen year old. No. Hermione could face losing her future, if not her very existence to the chance that she could change the world for the better. "Dumbledore." She mumbled, transfiguring the slippers into suitable flat shoes and opening the door wide to the common room.

Without sparing a glance at anyone, the new girl felt the weight of her decision on her shoulders.

If she tampered with time she could be sent back without even a memory of what happened. If she had no chance to _go_ back then why would she remain in the time.

If all else failed, she would step in and be the one to kill Voldemort himself. After all, the prophecy only arrived after James and Lily were married. So she had two years to formulate a plan and put it into motion. To find Voldemorts Horcruxes. To destroy them. And kill him in the process.

"Hoi, Granger. We want a word with you." Shouted an irate James Potter. He cared very little for the fact that she was lost in the eyes of the kind hearted Moony. He looked out for others being a werewolf he knew what it was like to be hated and to hide from the world. But James could not see things like that. He only saw what he wanted to. He grew up in a wealthy pureblood family. Until Sirius came to live with him he didn't even know about the supremacy act. He simply saw everyone as a person, it was like opening a new door to him. That did not however stop him from pursuing his goal of keeping himself at the top of the school. "You're hiding something. And we wanna know what." There was the obnoxiousness of James Potter that from stories told by Lupin and Sirius before their deaths that told exactly why she refused to date him prior to Seventh year. Honestly, Hermione couldn't blame her for being against the boy. His immaturity and tendency to flaunt himself about made him no different than the pureblood Slytherins. If only he knew how everyone else could see him.

"If I had intended for you to know Mr Potter, then you would by now. As it stands, I do not. Therefore, you will not know. And try pulling that 'holier than thou' crap on me again. Go on. I _dare_ you. I am a force to be reckoned with Potter. Don't think twice about trying to be above me. You. Are _nothing_." Seething at the very thought of someone else treating her the same way Malfoy had all those years in school, how the Death Eaters showed her no respect, treated her like they should worship the ground they walked on … she had a very thin patience for such actions.

"What did you just say to me?" The boy asked incredulously. It had been a long time since someone decided they wanted to speak back to the pureblood. Sure, he was a jokester and liked to play pranks on people. But he felt the words strike far deeper than just a simple nagging at his behaviour.

"You heard me." She said with a low growl, turning around and looking him in the eye. A dark hollow shell of what used to hold sparkles during her youth. Her eyes were dead, but there was a terrible anger behind them. Irrational though it may be. "I've had enough of people like you Potter. I will not take it. You do not get to order me around, you do not get to consider yourself above me and you don't most certainly do not get to think about trying to use your magic to get me back. Trust me, you _will_ fail. You may think you're fun is something of a celebrity inducing power. But let me tell you; I have met wizards who are so much more than you are right now, and who have been since they were a child. You may think this is all fun and games; but if you haven't noticed Potter you are in the middle of a _war_. And using that attitude, let me tell you. Will not get you anywhere but six feet under ground thanks to Voldemorts stupid power parade!" Her voice low and hissing was enough to send the usually cocky marauder walking backward to get away from her. She turned around to walk out through the portrait. Barely hearing the mumbled 'freak' from the two main marauders.

She needed Dumbledore _now_.  
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Remember to R&R. Makes my day reading reviews.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry for the wait people. Here is the next installment! mainly a filler, but it gets the job done =D**

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The walk to Dumbledore's office took shorter than Hermione thought it would. Her mind was all over the place, leaving her feet to trace the path forged since her first year toward the Headmasters office. He would be her one confident in this world. He would know by what means she arrived and if she could get him around to the idea, she would inform him of how to defeat the rising threat against the wizarding world. So many could be saved simply by giving him that one piece of advice. To tell him about what the future entailed or at the very least how to defeat the dark lord when the time came; Hermione surmised that it was within everyone's best interest that she give the little bits of information, while remaining something of an oddity in this time. There was no place for her getting comfortable. She didn't belong in this time. Heck, in a few years time she was supposed to be born. that sort of meddling within a timeline was exactly what she had been warned against by her studies on the time turner during her third year. When she used it to take a few extra classes she decided that it would be within everyone's best interest that she know a little about the object she would be using for the year. When she had to hand it back however … she couldn't face it and managed to get the professor to let her keep it. For purposes solely on studying.

Until this point in her life however the young witch had found she did not require its services to the degree that she believed it useful Even during the final battle she knew that despite the losses, were she to go back she could be killed. And that would mean she couldn't protect her parents. Her poor parents who had suffered at her depressed and monotone lifestyle for months. She pitied them for having to deal with her, she didn't know how they coped. Then again, her parents had a strange ability to simply accept things at face value. Like for example their daughter being a witch and going to a school of magic for six years then going on the run where she engaged in one of the most horrific wars the wizarding world had ever experienced. Hermione knew her parents had heard about the war through forces not of her own. The minister of magic had managed to get to her, expressing his gratitude to the Grangers for their daughters service where the balding man had gone into great detail explaining the trouble their daughter had went to, up to and including the loss of their own memories where they became Australians.

To say they were mad was an understatement. Had they not seen her in such a pitiful state they would have intended to punish her in the only way they knew how. To take away her reading material. As it was, Hermione had refused any sort of book from the moment she returned hoke and simply existed in the void that was her bedroom. Trying hard to simply waste away. Perhaps then she would be able to say she suffered at the hand of war. The guilt that she did not save those around her had eaten at her so bad that during the attack on her home she silently wondered if Karma was coming to get her for not taking the time turner with her and deliberately altering the timeline to save those around her. But no; now she knew her punishment was to exist in a world where she did not. To live in a past where she was not even born. To befriend those whom she watched die. Be surrounded by the ghosts of her past and their inevitable future. How was she to cope with the knowledge that those around her had numbered days, when she had the ability to do something about it. That was the thought that brought her to her final decision to simply meddle and deal with the consequences. Even if it meant Azkaban for meddling with time.

She would suffer if it meant the survival of those around her.

The gargoyle outside the headmasters office stood still as she approached, hesitantly looking around to see if anyone of the student body passed her. this needed to be a secret. She had exposed herself to too many people already and she was no about to let herself get into trouble already. "Sherbet lemon?" She quizzed the stone statue, seeing that nothing happened she let out a groan. Of course it wouldn't be that easy. "Honeydukes chocolate? Bertie Botts every flavour beans? Chocolate Frogs? Cockroach clusters? Toffee? Fudge?" Getting slightly frustrated by her lack of ability to gain access to the Headmasters office the girl spoke very sternly to the gargoyle. "Now listen here. You better let the Headmaster know somehow that I need to see him or I'll be sure to get my future me to kick you each time I pass. Gottit?" Her voice was low and almost dangerous as she again looked around the corridor for anyone to see her. Thankfully there was no-one and she found the gargoyle moving aside slowly. Obviously in its own way having conveyed her message to the headmaster. For that, she was at least thankful.

As the swirling tunnel staircase finally reached the top Hermione found the door to the office closed and a low mumbling noise from behind them. Indicating that she had interrupted something private. Perhaps an important meeting, an order one at that … Would she be allowed to rejoin it? After all, she had been in the order of the phoenix when she turned 15 before the war broke out officially. Perhaps the headmaster would entertain her in such a way.

"Miss Granger I assure you I would not have allowed you up here if you were to simply stand outside my office." the half chuckling voice of the headmaster spoke clearly as though he was standing beside her instead of through the door. Hesitantly, despite having gone to the office far too many times for a girl of her academic accolade Hermione opened the door and saw a very prim; albeit younger version of Professor McGonagall sitting in one of the chairs surrounding the headmasters desk. His familiar twinkle always present as he indicated she take a seat beside him. It seemed that she was to be including her old mentor in her discussion.

"Professor?" She enquired, her gaze falling onto the head of Gryffindor with a look of worry. She did not want too many people becoming involved in what she was about to divulge.

"Miss Granger, I assure you whatever it was that you wish to inform me, Minerva here would be quite able to handle it."

"That is not my thought Headmaster. I don't want anyone to get involved in anything through me without need." The girl said apprehensively. Looking back up at the silver haired old man that had inspired the trust of so many over the years. How sad it was when he was killed. By none other than a professor who in this timeline was her age. Things were complicated at the very least. "I believe, as I have gone over my thoughts many times that the information I could provide, with care, will aid you and the order in your fight. Sir." She said, rather boldly, meeting his gaze without question. Causing Minerva to splutter around a cup of tea.

"Albus, how does this … this IChild/I know of the organisation that we have not even divulged to more than a handful of adults. Who Iis/I this girl?" The woman asked, almost as if Hermione's mere presence was a danger to her and her precious cup.

"Minerva, this was what I wished to discuss with you. However miss Granger seems to have beaten me to the punch. I do hope you do not mind my sharing your situation with Minerva, she is a dear and well trusted friend of mine. Something I am sure you may know by now."

"Yes professor. I know Professor McGonagall well in my time." The girl answered, indicating that it was alright for the headmaster to proceed.

"Splendid. Minerva, to put things very plainly miss Granger has appeared on the school grounds by result of an unfortunate turn of events with a time turner. To put it even simpler, she is from the future."

"Really Albus, I do not have times for these sort of games. What do you mean she is from the 'future'. You know as well as I that a time turner cannot go farther back than a few hours, a day at the very most. and in such a time I do not think there would a way for this young girl to gain access to such a restricted subject." the prim Scottish accent of the woman who had become something of a grandmotherly figure to the muggleborn looked down at her with such distrust that where Hermione not in such a position she would be reminded that prior to the war her Boggart had been this very woman telling her she failed all her exams.

"If I may professor? It's true. However, I truly do not want too many details of my past and your future to be said allowed. By my very coming back here I could have altered the future in a very drastic way ... time Is far too fragile and I apologise for even being here. But I was never intended on going back so far. You see Professor ... I left my time; Twenty Years in the future."

"Twenty years? By god child you are not even old enough to have been alive in this time. What possible reason could you have for ... You are right Albus, my apologies." The woman broke off, noticing a very stern look from the headmaster, the twinkling in his eyes the only remaining feature that showed he was not a terrible man. Yet the severity of the situation, while absurd was something new to him. And Albus Dumbledore did not enjoy being put out by information.

"However" the girl interrupted, holding a hand up in the air to raise attention to herself again. Something she had not quite gotten out of from her years of speaking with the professors. "I could be of use to the order, to give information on Voldemort. And the threat that he at this very second is causing on the muggle world and the muggleborn witches and wizards of our world." She said, more softly toward the end. "Prior to throwing myself too far into the past I was the result of an Attack from straggling Death Eaters upon the home of my muggle parents and I where I was targeted. without going into too much detail that could hinder the time frame, by the time I left he was gone but the threat was not. Think of it as the remaining Nazi party without Hitler." She explained, taking in the shocked expressions of the two professors. Hopefully they remembered enough to understand the threat that the particular muggle historic figure caused. "Voldemort is something akin to him. Hoping to wipe out the muggle race entirely, and those with magic who come from muggle backgrounds. But in all honesty he is the biggest hypocritical half-blood son of a muggle I've ever come across. I could give you names of all his inner circle but at this time I'm not even sure half of them are initiated. I know of one who is ... and his son will be dragged into it also. But unfortunately it would only lead to suspicion. However. i do know that if you are willing to hear me out i can give you the much needed secret to taking him down once and for all. Before a second war is waged, heck before the first really."

"A second war? Oh Albus we really must do something. We cannot let the students live through something like this. We must find him now!"

"Be calm Minerva. However tempting the information miss Granger seems to posses I worry that by knowing it we may end up ... how you say ... befuddle the timeline. In such a way that miss Granger possibly has not thought of-"

"-pardon my rudeness professor. But do not think I underestimate the severity of the situation. Or my intelligence for that matter. In the future, if it were not for me neither of your two would have had any sort of knowledge of how to destroy the beast of a man. Don't think I am taking this lightly. If I so much as breath one wrong breath I could eradicating my very existence. If I have no need to go back in time, I wont exist here. If i somehow end up being known to be from the future who is to say that Voldemort will not come for me as a baby four years from now. I know I am young sir ... but I was one of seven to survive the last battle while both of you-" She caught herself, raising a hand to her mouth and simply mumbling "-did not." into the air. There was no point in telling her dear professors of their untimely demise when they still had years ahead of them. That would be wrong of her. Terribly wrong of her. "It doesn't matter about that anyway. But you must believe me sir ... You may well need me. Now, not twenty years in the future."

"Be that as It may ... I believe that you should be thinking of something else at the present moment miss Granger."

"Professor?"

"At what point would you have asked me for help in the way of how you were to explain your lineage miss Granger? of perhaps how you would acquire such things as textbooks or robes? As i can believe quite firmly that from what I learned in your mind your parents are not yet married, nor will they have an account for you within Gringotts. Or know of your very existence."

"My parents are dead in my time sir. I would prefer not to be involved in their lives again. I fear it would be too much, for me. I have only recently returned them from Australia, I modified their memories while the war ensued. They only remembered me when i returned them to England less than a year ago. well ... you know what I mean." She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, it was something of a shock to realise that such little things like money would be completely lost with her now. Thankfully she retained her wand when she threw herself backward in time, if she didn't even have that there was no doubt that she would indeed be unfit to perform magic. It was a difficult concept time, she should have known better than to even attempt to use her time turner in her state of mind and physical abuse. But there was no going back now, quite literally. She had no means by which she would be able to go forward with her life, no way that she would be able to enjoy the life she knew she had before. If anything went wrong in this time she may not even have a past to remember. Simply stuck in between, no past and no future. Frightening a concept though it may be she understood that it was probably for the best. Now Ronald and Harry would have another incentive to look for the remaining death eaters. Her obliteration from existence would not be in vain! "However I am fair enough in transfiguration that I could be well simply altering the loaned robe from the school; if that would not be too much of a bother. I'm sure you were informed ... I uh ... came here with my wand alone. It seems rather embarrassing that it was four males who found me."

"Not to worry miss Granger, they informed me that young Mr Potter gave loan of his cloak to ensure your dignity remained intact when they transported you to the hospital wing. However, I also understand that it is not within your power to be able to help that you were sent here and Hogwarts, believe it or not my dear, has a large trust for witches and wizards along the years who befall troubled times. I am sure that, were we to set up an account for you with an allowance, as you may call it you would be able to keep yourself until you are able to gain employment once you leave? am i correct." The old man let his twinkling eyes talk more for her. He felt pity for the young girl and knew that something like this should never happen to a child. Considering what she had explained to him about the future, it was not something to look forward to. Yet there was a suspicion within him that there was more to her than simply met the eye. He had seen into her mind, seen what he needed to to assure her loyalty to the light; but he also saw a great many terrible things about Hogwarts in the near future, each year it seemed Voldemort would infiltrate the castle by one means or another. And Dumbledore was positive that this young woman had enough Gryffindor courage within her that she would be determined to see another. One that did not cause another child the same pain she had felt.

"Sir, that ... I would repay each and every knut sir. I swear to you on every book I have ever read that I will!" She expressed, eyes wide in awe. She had never felt such need for charity and while she was ashamed and embarrassed that things had come to such conditions she knew that it was her only hope of surviving. "Are you quite positive that I might use such charity sir?" To which she received a short chuckle from the old man. He nodded his head and indicated the deputy head for her to listen to his next comment. From the woman's expression Hermione gathered she would not enjoy what was coming.

"Minerva, this girl is and was a Gryffindor and has shown true courage to even come forward. I believe it is your responsibility as her head of house to see that she adapts well enough that we can release her into the larger student body. We will confirm her name of course, I am sure miss Granger has no doubt informed others that is indeed her identity. However, I believe the true knowledge of her whereabouts should remain a mystery at least for now." He raised one heavy silver eyebrow at the woman and watched her nod once, a prim look of submission to the headmaster. Minerva, however much she disliked an idea would always trust the opinion of the greatest wizard of the age. He was someone who's infinite wisdom was sought after by thousands far younger than him and even those whose age surpassed the aged wizard. "Good. Now miss Granger, I would like you to return to your dormitory, there will be a trunk at the bottom of your bed and in it are simple Gryffindor robes that will adjust to your size as you wear them, they are until you are able to purchase your own. Do not think anything of it. Once you return to your common room, I would like to remind you that apart from your travels, you may tell the students what you feel necessary for them to know. Anything you do not wish to discuss, do not feel pressurised to express. The particular students I believe that have taken an interest in you will not back down easily but they have their hearts in the right place." With another twinkle in his eye, the old man raised his hand and the door at the front of the office opened once more, indicating with a smile that she was free to leave.

"I promise you Headmaster. You will not regret this." Hermione said softly, her eyes harder than they had been, while her face was giving a soft smile. She knew that she had to think before she returned t the common room. James for one was probably out scouting the corridors for her. That much she was almost frighteningly positive. But it was Lily she really wanted to speak with. if she could confide in the girl who seemed at least by this point to be deserving of the friends that surrounded her then it would make her stay - however long that may be - more bearable.

Once outside the stone gargoyles circling embrace she found herself on backed up against the wall. Wide eyed and confused at the pressure on her shoulder. Thankfully not where she knew her scar had been affecting her since the time leap; but none the less it was unnerving to not see her attacker. Grappling for her wand in the pocket of the jeans she found it missing and looked down in fright, noticing the distinctly empty pocket and raising her hand out, swiping at the area in front of her and coming into contact with something hard. Hard and soft ... the invisibility cloak! She realised with an inner smirk. But she couldn't know about it yet, she didn't know James well enough to know he held one of the 'three brothers' gifts. Or that it was even James under it, or James and Sirius ... it was unlikely. By the end of the year Hermione had found it difficult for her and Ron to stay hidden under it, never mind two well build Quidditch playing boys far taller than her.

"Ouch! Damnit!" She heard feeling the pressure on her shoulder released before she bolted in the other direction. Throwing her feet in front of her as she ran down corridors, ignoring the talk from the portraits as she passed telling her to slow down and reaching the main entrance to school in less than a few minutes. It was only seconds later that she reached outside, it was still early enough for students to be out but it remained to be seen that she wanted to be out of sight. The sun was not out fully, hidden behind an expanse of greying cloud. A clear indication that summer was over and a new term was beginning with the Autumn months. It was just a shame that the lovely green of the grounds and the magical bushes and flowers went unseen as the legs of the young muggleborn war trained witch kept running. Stopping only to put a hand up to the darkened line of purple burnt flesh under the top and wincing loudly. She didn't stop to take in the points where she saw the others in the final battle fall, nor did she stop whens he ran through the place she knew in twenty years time would stand tall as Professor Dumbledore's grave. She didn't stop when she spotted the place she had fallen under a cruciatus curse, or suffered terrible blood loss due to a severing charm that barely missed her leg.

She only stopped when she reached the black lake. Slowing down only when she reached the banks where she knew the Tri-Wizard tournament tents had stood before the second event. When she had been taken underwater for the purpose of Viktor Krum. The seeker of the century apparently, according to Ronald. She remembered trying for weeks desperately to find something to help Harry breath under water, never once finding Gillyweed in the textbooks. She remembered how cold the spell was when she was put under; how she had trusted McGonagall when she was silently cursed and only regained conciousness when she returned to the surface, facing a morphing Viktor from the top half of a shark. She had never been more thankful that the water had caused her to react slower or she would have screamed out in fright. Sharks were one of the muggle creatures that truly frightened Hermione. The one that she knew she would tackle the Grindylows over any day. Of course, Harry had triumphed yet again that day. All part of an elaborate plot to make sure he got to the graveyard and sacrificed himself to Voldemorts power once more.

Shuddering under the weight of the memories, Hermione dropped to her knees and heaved a deep breath. Her arms wrapping around her as the coldest of chills ran through her. Her arms forming goosebumps at the thought of the terrors she had faced at such a young age. The students here didn't know what was coming for them. Didn't know who of their students or faculty would die not long after this very day. None of them, but Hermione.

She knew the names of the ones that had died, of the ones that were tortured or kidnapped and never found again. she knew how everyones lives would end up without needing to be a seer and she was too worried about the troubles her own memories caused that she didn't realise how different she could make the future if she simply dug deep and reached for the Gryffindor courage that in her first year made the hat choose that over Ravenclaw. 'I'm gonna save them. I have to ... Harry is going to have his parents, his godfather ... he won't have to live with the Dursleys. Peter wont betray his friends ... Sirius wont go to prison ... Remus ... Remus can be Teddy's father.' For some reason, the thought of Remus returning to a time where he would be able to look after the child he had with another made Hermione's heart sink even further down into her stomach than it was already sitting. She had no claim over him, she was only thirteen when she first met him. Never mind that he was never going to see enough of her to think anything of her. She would be sure that they all had their happily ever afters when she was through with the timeline. Everything would be fixed ... she knew it.

"Hermione?" She heard from behind her. It was a far away sort of voice, like one that belonged in a dream. Without moving an inch she tried to identify the voice, a habit of sorts taken from the war. Know thy enemy before facing them. "Hermione!" Closer ... louder. Yes. But still broken and distant from the conscious mind that she was using to formulate a plan to make the lives of the marauders last far longer than a few more years. Blinking once she found a pressure on her good shoulder again; only this time it was of a comforting hand. A weight around her shoulders indicated a cloak being put around her as she was lifted from the ground and forced around onto her feet. Looking up slightly into concerned eyes of bright Amber. Not a colour one would expect in a normal witch or wizard, nor one that could be anyone elses bar one wizard she knew she needed to keep from to save her own sanity.

"Remus?" She said softly, her voice a broken sob as she was pulled close to the strong werewolf. His arms reaching around her back as she buried her face into the front of his chest. Inhaling the heady scent that should have made her laugh. A strong smell of chocolate with a woodsy musk that made her inhale deeply. Not noticing the slow snails pace tears that made their way down her cheeks until a strong hand reached for her face and wiped them with a gentleness she had not before realised he had.

"C'mon. Lets get you back to the common room eh?" His voice was no more than a whisper, matching the shy smile on his face. "Before someone misses us. alright?" He offered, turning them around so that - on arm still around her waist - he led her back toward the school. Giving a glare at a place between the open doors before reaching toward the ground and picking up a wand that rolled out from seemingly nowhere. "I'm assuming this one is your?" He asked, still giving her that almost edible shy smile as she blindly nodded and grasped the wooden implement with her right hand. Feeling the surge of magic from it and giving a contented sigh as a smile danced over her lips.

"Thank you." She mumbled, tucking herself back into his side as the two continued their way back to the common room. Not talking, simply finding company in each others presence. It was ... nice.

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**remember to rate and review, it makes authors all warm and fuzzy inside. and who knows, mibbe Remus will be more willing to grace us with his presence in the next chapter ;)**


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